Page 24 of Harley
“Leila’s going to keep digging. So far, we’ve discovered Oakley is twenty-three years old and turns twenty-five in eighteen months. That’s important.Her surname is Ferguson, and she is an only child. Oakley’s lived in Illinois all her life, attending college there too. She has two living parents but no grandparents on either side.
“Oakley studied an electronics course. Leila has spoken to a few people who attended classes with Oakley. They say she kept herself to herself and didn’t mix with anyone. Oakley didn’t have any friends worth mentioning. One report said there was another girl Oakley seemed close to, but the unknown female didn’t attend the college. Once Oakley graduated, she putteredabout and was employed part time in the mornings in a local shop.”
“Oakley worked in a shop? After getting training as an electrician?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. That appears strange. Then, one day, Oakley didn’t arrive for work. Her mother informed them that Oakey wouldn’t be returning. The following morning, Oakley’s engagement was announced, and after that, Oakley vanished from public view.”
“Three years at the shop, and she quit without notice?” I asked, my mind trying to figure the puzzle out.
“Yes. Leila did track down the unknown girl. Her name is Aspen Ferguson. She’s Oakley’s older cousin. Aspen disappeared a year ago with her son Archer, a disabled boy with autism. Aspen is also shrouded in mystery,” Dylan said.
“Is there anything else?”
“Gossip says the grandfather who died a few years ago was an inventor. Apparently, Oakley and Aspen would spend a lot of time with him. There are rumours of an invention that could change green energy and was worth a ton of money. But nothing concrete; however, there was interest in missing patents and plans.”
“What about the parents?”
“They’re interesting folks. Social climbers and greedy to a fault. The husband, Edmond Ferguson, made money in banking while Sarah Ferguson was a stay-at-home mom. Neither seemed overly interested in family. Edmond’s mother died before he married Sarah. They didn’t spend much time with Edmond’s father until towards the end when rumours of this invention got out.
“Whatever that was, it made both Sarah and Edmond scour the house looking for plans. I’m trying to track down the lawyer to discover the contents of the will. Neither parent appeared to inherit anything. Sarah and Edmond are also part of a closedchurch community. They recruit, but there isn’t much known about it. They are very religious and, by all accounts, close to the head, Reverend Jeffrey Coulston. He has a son, Bronson Coulston.”
“The Bronson that Oakley was running from,” I replied.
“Seems to be the same, yes. We’ll keep digging,” Dylan said and cut the call.
Shoving everything out of my mind, I began working on the finish for the dagger.
Oakley
Relieved, I relaxed against the bed, worn out. After Harley left this morning, I’d showered and dressed; then Summer had popped in for a visit, and boy, could she talk.
Summer made a joke, saying that she used to be henpecked by her mother and had been quite the recluse, but now look at her. Summer explained her chattiness was the old ladies encouraging her to be herself.
Honestly, I was a little envious of how she revelled in her husband Slick’s love. I did find the situation strange. But Summer was secure that Slick and Irish, albeit in different ways, loved her.
Gunner arrived just gone noon, and Summer left with him, and then I ordered lunch. While eating, I downloaded some books and began reading a new witchy one by my favourite author.
Klutz came next, and Vivie popped in on her way home. I was looking at the menu, deciding what to order for dinner, when my mobile rang. Considering only Harley had the number, I answered it.
“Oakley…” a voice hissed down the line.
Scared, I slammed the phone down and turned it off.
Bronson!
How the hell had Bronson got my new number? Panicked, I recalled how they drowned and broke phones in films and did the same.
I started rocking back and forth on the bed, unsure what to do. Without thinking, I stood and gasped with pain. No, I couldn’t walk yet. But I couldn’t stay here. Did the fact they’d traced my phone mean they had tracked me? Panic set in as I began to hyperventilate when there was a tap at the door sounded.
A whimper escaped as the knock repeated. I curled into a ball and covered my ears.
Was that Bronson? My parents? Then I wondered what the hell I was doing? If it was them, I’d create such a fuss that they’d never get me out. The knock was louder, and I climbed into the chair and opened the door. Harley stood there, staring down at me in concern.
“You okay?” he asked, entering.
“Yes and no,” I said as I shifted back onto the bed.
“That’s ambiguous.”
